The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The humidity envelops Tracy like a bath, hot air circulating around her as walks the few hundred yards to the small stadium that doubles as the school’s football/soccer field and in her case, the designated meeting place for the track and field tryouts. She adjusts the visor shading her eyes and zeroes in on the arena lights rising out of the ground as if they were sentries, a reminder of the ridiculously high premium the school put on sports. The inequity disgusts her, but then again if someone told her she’d be trying out to be a jock she would’ve laughed their asses out of her face. She takes a gulp from her water bottle and tries to block out the self-consciousness bubbling inside her.

She marches through the nondescript entryway and down the thirty or so concrete steps towards the small circular enclosure. The coach walks back and forth, arms crossed, as if expecting her. Three other girls wait alongside, their profiles hard to make out at a distance. Their anxious gait and stiff posture suggest they’ve been here for a long time. Maybe five, ten minutes, Tracy reckons.

“I see you’ve decided to join us at last.” The coach glances at her hand-me-down shorts and tank top. “We were just about to get started without you.”

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting. Are these the people you were telling me about the other day?”

“Sure are. Elgin, I want you to meet Misses Lu, Yost, and Chadiya. You’re going to be training with them for the next sixteen weeks.”

“Hi.” A slight, shy Asian with petite hands greets her. “My name’s Susan, but everybody calls me Suzy.”

“My mom’s told me about you.”

“Really? How does she know me? Does she work with my mom any?”

“What does your Mom do?”

“Real estate, mostly. She’s a broker.”

“I don’t think they’ve met, then. Mom’s a social worker, food stamps.”

Suzy shakes her head.

“Lu is a common name around these parts. Your mom probably heard it from a friend of a friend. Bound to happen anyway, the way the neighborhoods are laid out.”

Suzy is brushed aside by a pale, lanky girl with chestnut hair and sparkling greenish eyes.

“Name’s Joanie. JOAAANIE.” The Boston accent is unmistakable. “I undahstahd yah come, ah, highly recahmmended. Don’t go gettin’ ah hopes up, okeh? I don’t want some Joannie come lately jinxing us like last time.”

Tracy blinks, too busy trying to make out the words to pick up on the bad pun.

“Last time?”

“Yah mean the coach didn’t tell you? About the girl who quit?”

“Yeah, he did. By the way, you don’t sound like you’re around here. “Originally from South Boston; transferred three years ago to compete on the team. Been heyah evah since.”

A tall, ebony woman muscles her way in, eyes glaring as she sizes Tracy up.

“My slave name is Helena James Cassidy, but I answer only to Asha. You got that?”

Tracy shrinks from her.

“Okayyy…” She mutters as she pulls the coach aside.

“Sixteen weeks? The Asian’s nice, but the others? Are you crazy?”

“They came through for us three times already. That’s three plaques we get to hang up on our wall. They’re the best of the best, Elgin. If you can’t handle that, then we can forget we ever had this conversation.” “One woman’s a lawsuit waiting to happen and the other is a mad black woman who probably has a poster of Angela Davis on her wall. Tell me how that adds up to, what’s the word you guys use?”

“Unit cohesion.”

“Yeah, that.”

The coach sighs.

“You know the first thing you learn in the Corps, Elgin? Before they hand you the rifle and make you recite that little speech about how it’s yours and it’s not like any other? Before they have you running up sharp, jagged hills two, three times the ones around us right now? Before you’re even inducted? You can’t pick and choose who you share your foxhole with. First thing you learn on the bus and last thing that gets beaten into your head ‘fore lights out.”

“Coach, remember what I said about—“

He cuts her off.

“Tell you what. If for some reason, after you win the championships for us in June, you still want to do your own thing, I’ll let you go and that’ll be the end of it. Until then, I want you running and jumping and yes, sweating your life out with those three whether you like it or not. Now run along and show me you’re more than just a fresh fish.”

Tracy swallows her pride and joins the girls on the track, stretching, lunging, and working her thighs, all the while reminding herself of her newfound duty to the team. Her focus is so intense she hardly sees Suzy in her peripheral vision, stealing a furtive glance amidst the reps and sets. Her head buzzes as a surge of energy flows through her. Suddenly even the slightest noise is audible, the tiniest item visible to her naked eye.

Asha fishes out something from a nearby container. Tracy can just make out the small conical shape in her hand, staggered like traffic cones, crumpled on top of another.

“Coach wants us to practice relays.” She says matter-of-fact. “Elgin, since you’re the new kid, I’m putting you way out there.”

She points to a small triangle in the middle of the course, several feet away.

“When Suzy overtakes Joanie, you’ll take the baton from her and hand it to me. Our best time is two and a half minutes. We want to beat that. That means you got a little over thirty seconds to make the grade.”

Tracy nods, biting her tongue as she walks towards her designated spot in the middle of the track. She waits for the sound of the starter pistol, nervously eying her teammates. Her eyes lock on the coach’s, hidden behind aviator shades, stopwatch firmly in hand as he grips a snubbed-nose .45 with the other. A nod of acknowledgement passes between the two.

Adrenaline kicks in as the report goes off. Tracy waits anxiously for Suzy to catch up with her. Her chance finally comes as their hands briefly touch. Alert and eager to prove herself, Tracy takes off, sprinting with all the force she can muster. It’s all over in a matter of minutes. She collapses on the hot asphalt, catching her breath.

“Great Scott!” The coach bellows through the megaphone. “Two minutes! I think we’ve set a world record!”

The girls break into cheers.

“How can we be so sure?” Asha shouts. “It could be a fluke, the wind or something.”

“Let’s try it again. Everyone, back on your feet, that means you, Elgin!”

Tracy suppresses a sigh as she reassumes the position, wondering how many times she’ll have to stand out in the sweltering sun before she can hit the showers and go home. As Suzy comes around the bend the second time, she snaps the baton out of her hand, running with a grace that can only be found in the wilds of the African savannah. She passes the baton to Asha in milliseconds, cutting down her time in half.

The coach does a double take.

“Girls.” He gestures toward Tracy. “Keep this up and we may be looking at a trophy yet. Now clean up and hurry home before your mommies and daddies start worrying ‘bout you.”

The quartet slinks towards the clubhouse out back, ducking into the communal showers. Tracy soaps up her arms, legs and stomach, tilting her head, completely unaware of the hands exploring her chest and midsection, reaching down further to explore the tufts of hair covering her sex. A palm grinds her canal, rubbing furiously as she fantasizes about the man of her dreams.

“Oh hannnkkkkkk...”

“Elgin?”

“Huh?” She murmurs as a slender hand rocks her shoulder.

“Elgin, it’s time to go.”

Tracy opens her eyes, half-attentive to the sight of Suzy standing across from her.

“Suzy! Don’t you have any respect for a girl’s privacy?” Tracy mutters as she wraps a towel around her.

“I’m sorry, I...” Suzy’s gaze wanders.

“Eyes up here, Suzy. How long was I, um?”

I only caught a snatch, I mean, ah...”

“I know what you mean, Suzy. Thanks for letting me know.”

Tracy storms toward the locker, leaving Suzy confused.

“Who’s Hank?” Suzy cries out.